Style Inspiration for a Tired Mum

For the days that just feel a little more then you can handle, like it's been one meltdown/tantrum/tears/mess too many and you're just done. 

For the days when your big girl 'naps' with your little girl and changes the dirty diaper and it all ends in one big mess. I spare you the details. 

For the days when bubble bath becomes so much more fun and sweet smelling when your shampoo is emptied into the bath water. 

For the days when the questions, both yours and theirs, don't seem to end. And there really isn't an answer to satisfy 'why'.

 Be brave. Step out in another area. Let it change your perspective. 

Get dressed, like really dressed. Put together an entire outfit. Try something new. For their sake as well as yours. 
Know that this one thing you can do, and you can do it well. 

And then, let yourself be changed. See yourself as the professional mother that you are.

See the endless questions of why as a thirst for knowledge and the budding of a curious mind. 

Delight in the utter wonder that modern washing machines are. Dirty at naptime, clean and cozy for bedtime. 

Revel in the cuteness of two little girls covered in bubbles. At least the shampoo was good for their skin and their hair and their tummies.


What new outfits are you trying out and rocking? (Because we all like inspiration and ideas!)

outfit details:
black and white striped tee: Joe (clearance)
shawl: gift
skinnies: Tommy Hilfiger 
boots: thrifted
scarf: Mystique India (Edmonton)

To the Ocean We Went

I put the girls in their carseats, and we drove, taking full advantage of the rental car for the weekend. Along the winding road, beside the blaze of glory that transforms the trees in autumn in Nova Scotia. One little girl slept, and the other talked. A lot. And asked questions. Mostly why questions. 

I was exhausted and just wanting to be quiet. I stopped the car and took some pictures. The wind blew my hair and made the grass dance. It was beautiful. 

And so is my life. I just miss it sometimes, chasing after perfection. Chasing after the ideal that doesn't exist for anyone. 

Life is busy and full and so very precious. 

We walked all over the beach, picking up shells, drawing in the sand and walking in the water. We ran and we sang at the top of our lungs. We took big gulps of fresh air. I let the breeze blow all the tension away. I let my girls be little and I let myself be their imperfect mum. 

I answered endless questions of why, I danced the dance of the Ergo when my littlest one fussed and I memorized how the ocean calmed all of us. 

We collected two more shells for our collection and headed home. 

Picking the Perfect Pumpkin

It's the pumpkin patch dilemma. Everyone is dressed in their sweaters and plaids and boots, parents are following their children around asking them to "just please look at the camera!" "Just smile nicely!"

The children run from pumpkin to pumpkin declaring each one to be the best. They see the glory of the big orange balls, the autumn light glinting off the pumpkins, the corn maze holds mystery to their imagination.

The adults check their watches or their phones, getting caught up in a text conversation.

"Hurry, hurry, haven't you picked one out yet?"

They drag the pumpkins to get weighed and then load the children in the car to cries of 'but we weren't finished yet.'

The pumpkin sits on the front porch steps, maybe with a carved face or not. The pictures are liked and commented on, 'oh my goodness, your kids are SO cute!'

And everyone moves on. 

Pie is made with canned filling from the store or a ready-made pie is picked out from the bakery section. And it's eaten and for the most part enjoyed. I'm not judging here, this was the way we danced on Thanksgiving weekend. And it was good. 

It struck me this weekend when we were out at the pumpkin patch, the great extent we go to make memories and to capture everything and then to share it, as if the capturing and sharing make it more real. Parents chasing their children around, bribing their children for pictures when all the children want to do is run and delight in the pumpkins. Minus the bribing part, that was me. It wasn't the perfect pumpkin picking that I wanted, and it wasn't just the children who were being fussy and grumpy.

Sometimes, its better to just let the littles set the pace, to follow them around the pumpkin patch, marveling at how they walk, noticing what they notice. Sometimes it's better to not care so much about capturing the perfect picture but to make the perfect memory. Sometimes it means picking out a knobby pumpkin and hefting into the stroller for the ride home. Sometimes it means not being perfect and not being all cutesy and not having any of those pictures to share. Sometimes the only pictures are of everyone being distracted and looking the other way but sometimes there's the one magical picture of sunlight and autumn and life. Real life just like you live it everyday, captured just how you are right then. 

And that's really okay. And that's really real. And that's really beautiful. 

Enjoy Now

Enjoy Now. 

There's dozen of pithy quotes with this concept, I probably have half a dozen on my "good words" pinboard. 

I need them pinned on my head, on my walls, and on my girls' walls. 

I have these daydreams sometimes when I go for walks that both girls will fall asleep in the stroller, at the same time. They will stay asleep while I navigate the coffee shop, order my drink, enjoy it (while it's hot), and read for several hours. At the end of which time, they will wake up happy and I will be a content better person. 

(If I just crushed any of your ideas about me, I'm not sorry. Real life is so much better and messier)

But if those dreams were to come true, I would miss out on so much. So much life. 

I realized this the other day as I navigated the coffee shop with the stroller and two wide awake girls. I smiled at the other customers, no doubt breathing a sigh of relief that my coffee was to go. I pushed the stroller towards the water and onto the dyke, Kilmeny got out of the stroller and started running. Khaira was running with her in spirit, she is so close to walking everywhere and can't wait to keep up with Kilmeny that way. 

I breathed the rich sea air into my lungs and felt life taking hold again. 

We reached the corner, just where the rocks are piled perfectly to sit and the path is wide enough for two little girls to play on without getting in the way of other runners. I drank my coffee, and watched the waves beat against the rocks. I marveled (again) at the builders of the dyke and their determination to guard their farmland from the ocean. Khaira toddled from rock to rock, Kilmeny kept pace with every runner who passed us. 

It took the smiles of a passerby to make me realize the wealth I had, she shared a delighted 'oh, look at them go!' smile with me and I felt instantly validated for all those hours of being mom. 

We walked and walked along the cornfields. The girls did fall asleep and I did read. I sat on the farmland side of the dyke, the sun warming my face, and just read. My phone was off and away, I listened to the birds sing and said hello to the cyclists. 

I enjoyed it. 

I didn't know how long they would sleep for or how long I would be able to read in complete quiet. So I soaked it up and 100 pages later, when they started waking up, I felt refreshed. 

And I had a new motto, a new mantra. 

Enjoy Now. 

The toddles of my one year old, the snuggles, the fits, the stories, the questions, the crying, the raw reality of being here in this season. 

Tomorrow will be hard and beautiful and memorable too. 

On Being Here and Present

It's been a week of change, transition and simplicity. Learning (again and again and again) to be content. That enough is really enough. And home isn't about the stuff. It really isn't.

Stuff makes the four walls homey. Stuff adds character and texture. Stuff defines us. But it's not what makes us.

In preparing for this move, I thought a lot about simplicity and living on purpose. Not living in the stupid zone. Not just letting life happen but owning each day, and being a good steward of the days I have.

Now? Here I am, currently, on an air mattress covered with our beloved orange MEC sleeping bags (as an aside, if you're buying sleeping bags and wondering about buying 'the really nice ones', do it. You don't know how long and how much you'll be sleeping in them.) There's a stack of library books in one corner and two duffels in another. It's our room, minimalist to the core.

I'm so much more grateful for the little things. We were given a kettle along with a few other basic kitchen ware. A kettle? I could have wept. Granted one can always boil water for tea in a pot but a shiny, whistling kettle on the stove is so much more delightful. And two pretty mugs.

I have tons of time to figure out my house habits and to think about how I want stuff to go, where to put the bookcases and how to create an office area. I also have lots of time to just hang out with my girls. Library time, stroller time, being silly on mummy's bed time. It's so good.

To keep it all real, I don't bounce out of bed every morning super happy and grateful. I may have had just as many meltdowns as my toddler. I may have not wanted to hear about all the mature responses I could have to my current situation. But, I will always have a current situation that challenges me, that reveals stuff about me that's not always pretty.

So, I'm here. Learning again to be grateful for each day. Being aware of the simple things and delighting in them.

(written on my iPhone, pictures from down by the Bay)